


goodnight, steve.

by nctaliaromanova



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Goodbyes, Love Confessions, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22145461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nctaliaromanova/pseuds/nctaliaromanova
Summary: it did, natasha, it worked. we won.but i lost.i lost my home,i lost family,i lost you.in which steve finds a video recording from natasha after the final battle.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 26
Kudos: 132





	goodnight, steve.

**Author's Note:**

> came up with this prompt so i knew i had to write it out! just don't picture how natasha would look in the video because it's heartbreaking :'-) anyway, i hope you enjoy it <3

It’s a bittersweet end to the journey. People mill about the compound with exclamations of victory and words of appreciation. For the first time in five years, a smile graces their lips, and they cup each other’s cheeks in their hands. But there are also those who mourn, those who sit away from the commotion. He knows that they’ve won, knows that he’s gotten everything he has been wishing for back. But there’s a sickening, empty feeling gnawing at the base of his skull, wrapping itself around his throat in a vice-like grip. Everyone knows that they’ve won, but have they thought about who they’ve lost, too?

He treads into the common room quietly, as if it's forbidden, cursed ground. The room is deathly silent; most of the team is on the ground floor. Steve scans the mahogany table, littered with bits and pieces of what remained of Natasha’s belongings. She never owned many belongings, says she’s always on the move. But Steve knows better than that; she’d stubbornly stationed herself in this isolated facility for the last five years, not a single person coming or going. The thought of it makes Steve’s stomach twist in regret.

He runs his fingers along the desk gently, before they land on the edge of a plate. There’s a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich on it, one bite from her and the other from him. Steve wills himself to push the image of her out of his mind, but he sees the way her leg is propped up on the desk, sees the half-hearted smirk she shoots at him, sees the tiredness in every line on her face. Just as he rounds a corner, he comes face to face with her door, stiffening militarily. It’s ajar, so he can see past it into her room. Behind it is her neatly-made bed and a couple of jackets strewn over the armchair in the corner. Steve slowly lowers himself onto her bed, clutching the edges of the sheets in his fists. Then, his eyes well up in a sadness that no one, let alone Captain America, should possess; he’s always been giddily optimistic, looking on the bright side of any given situation, but her room appears significantly dark now. He lets his tears flow unchecked as her words repeat in his mind again.

_ “This is gonna work, Steve.” She nods ever so slightly, and Steve turns to see the way her jaw is set, the sheer determination in her expression, the tone of finality in her words. His gut wrenches in uncertainty, because he knows that this is nothing they’ve ever trained for. But a comforting rub on the back by Natasha is all it takes for Steve to believe that everything will work out as it should. _

_ “I know it will.” He stares off distantly into the distance, his gaze lost in a sea of coloured streaks against the dark space. “Because I don’t know what I’m gonna do if it doesn’t.” Natasha stands up to place a firm hand on his shoulder, before she turns to exit the jet. _

It worked. Thanos is gone. But a certain redhead left with him, too. Everyone knows what they’re doing next, knows who to talk to and who to go to, but not Steve. He’s left adrift in the middle of all of it. He remembers how Natasha had caught him looking at his compass, at  _ Peggy.  _ He remembers seeing the brief look of hurt and confusion on her face, but it leaves just as fast as it shows. Natasha had always been his human compass, but he’d never realised it. Until now.

He’s too late to realise it. The world’s leading authority on waiting too long. Everything flashes across him in an instant; every memory shared with her, every conversation, every mission. Everyone saw him as the leader, but what they didn’t know was that Natasha had been silently leading by his side, too. She’s led him to where he is now, and if not for Natasha, he wouldn’t be here. No one would be here.

As he plants both hands on the bed behind him, a hard surface underneath the sheets causes him to spin around. Beneath the covers is a sleek, black tablet. Natasha’s tablet. It’s positioned almost too perfectly underneath the sheets, and Steve’s curiosity grows with every second. Finally, he inhales sharply and taps on the screen, bringing up the homescreen with one, single app on it. It’s a video player, and it’s titled Steve. He tries to suppress the shock that crosses him— knowing that Natasha had left it for him before she left.

“Hey, Steve.” Natasha begins, a wry smile gracing her lips. A video of Natasha pops up as Steve taps on the icon. She’s sitting against the headboard of her bed, auburn-blonde hair framing her face and tumbling past her shoulders. Natasha looks happy— too happy— for Steve’s liking.

“By the time you’re watching this, I would’ve probably been long gone, that is, if you took a week to find this. But since you’re watching this now, I figured you’re on my bed.” Natasha gives her signature smirk, rolling her eyes. “Thanks for keeping it warm, Capsicle.” 

“if you’re wondering how I’m filming this video, knowing everything that happens tomorrow, just know that I pried information from Nebula. God, she was relentless in keeping Vormir a secret, but I knew I had to find out more about it. I’ll miss her.”

“It’s simple, actually. I always knew I’d have to go sooner or later; never thought it’d be for a stone, but if that’s what fate demands then I’ll do it.”

Steve’s mouth is screwed shut, and he prays that he doesn’t let his sobs out. But an overwhelming feeling of regret washes across him, and he can’t help but let out a low whimper as he grips the sides of the tablet even harder.

“Anyway, back to the point,” Natasha chuckles. “I found a girl a few days ago. She’s nice; I think you’d like her.” Steve’s heart clenches, his expression softening into what can only be seen as sorrow. “I’ve left her contacts in the second page of this tablet, so if you ever want to go for it, you know how.” Natasha pauses for a moment, wearing the semblance of a sad smile, but she covers it up quickly with a half-hearted laugh. “I always hoped you’d get together with someone you truly love, someone who shares life experiences with you, someone who sticks by your side through thick and thin.” Her words seem to sting more painfully than her death itself, ringing in his head and around his ears. 

“I want you to find the one, Steve, it’s what you deserve.” Natasha takes a moment to compose herself, staring straight into the camera almost listlessly. Then, she changes the topic before he has time to reach out towards the screen for her. 

“Also, a funeral isn’t necessary. You know me well enough. I hope what I did restored families, reunited couples and brought back loved ones.” Natasha wears a forlorn expression; she hides it with a smile but Steve can tell that the corners of her lips never reach her eyes. “Do me a favour, will you?” She tilts her head slightly, eyes full of adoration and hope. “Send those kids in the facility back to their parents. It’s what I would’ve wanted. I’ve spent five whole years taking care of them, I think it’s about time they return back to their homes.”   


Steve is fully broken down now, and a part of him wishes that the video would end now, because the longer she speaks for, the more Steve dwells in regret and guilt. 

_ Just then, a voice interrupts her, and she whips her head back quickly towards the door. Steve realises then, that he was the one whom she was speaking to.  _

_ “Staying up?” _

_ “Can’t sleep.” Natasha rubs the back of her neck, pushing the tablet further and further away from his sight. Steve nods swiftly, before giving her a small smile and closing the door. Natasha looks back to the camera, and Steve can almost see the tears starting to pool in her eyes. _

_ Natasha lets out a sigh, before continuing. “It’s getting late. The rest of the team is snoring away. I know the heist tomorrow will be draining, but if it’s my last night here, with you, I’ll make it count.”  _

For a moment, there’s a beat of silence that stretches between them. Steve can tell that Natasha’s trying not to crumble before him, and he sees the way her chin trembles, sees the way her eyebrows are furrowed together. 

“Figured I wouldn’t have any other chance to say this, but it’s been on my mind for a long time.” She lets out a long sigh, her tone hesitating. I know I left you contacts, I know I tried to set you up on dates. I love you, Steve. I’ve loved you for who you are for as long as I can remember. I never saw you as Captain, I always saw you as that kid from Brooklyn, partner on and off the field, striving to do what’s best for others. I saw you as Steve. I love you.”   


Steve can almost physically feel his heart shatter. It aches and he feels the sheer weight of it. Because all along she loved him, but she never told him about it. And he did too, but he never told her.

“Tomorrow when we stand on that platform in the middle of the compound, it’ll be our last moments together. You won’t know it, but I will, and I hope it stays that way. I hope we share the same smiles we always gave each other. I hope we go up there knowing that the mission will succeed, because it has to. It has to, Steve. I wouldn't have done what I did if I knew it wasn’t going to work. I know it will.”

_ It did Natasha, it worked, but I lost you. I lost my home, I lost family, I lost you.  _

“Goodnight Steve, I’ll see you soon.” Natasha gives a tiny wave, ending the video.


End file.
